


Emerald Footsteps

by SherlockianonFire



Series: Leaves and Coffees [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianonFire/pseuds/SherlockianonFire
Summary: Well, I think it was about time to give you something like this. So here you have, enjoy.The requirement was Merlin+Green.I love you, love of my life.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krissielee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/gifts).



> Well, I think it was about time to give you something like this.   
> So here you have, enjoy.  
> The requirement was Merlin+Green.  
> I love you, love of my life.

_Green has followed him his whole life_.

The first green his mind recalls is the olive green of his own eyes in a mirror’s reflection. It was a magical realization to see that his gaze didn’t resemble the vast blue of the sky or the deep blue of the ocean; that his tears would never be blue in sadness or white in pureness or even brown in desolation.

 _He was barely four years old_.

The second green that dances in his memory is the sound of his mother’s voice. The never ending lullaby of his childhood; the verses of _Ba Ba Mo Leanabh_ tugging him into bed. The tender hand that rested in the dark of his hair. The green soft whisper that remained in his ear like ivy in his adulthood.

_Dhìrich mi bheinn mhòr gun anal_

_Dhìrich agus thearn_

_Chuirinn falt mo chinn fo d' chasan_

_Agus craicionn mo dhà làimh*_

 

His granny used to call him child of the forest… _son of the leaves_.

 

To the green grass of his mother’s voice, the bagpipes followed accompanied by the thunder of his teen years. The constant dancing of the branches over his head, his olive eyes set in those around him, those that stayed and those that went through the evergreen path of the Highlands.

 

The next green that took his mind away was emerald and infinite, like the breathtaking mountains of Scotland in his backyard. It was the blueish green of the pitch black winters, the lament of lashed trees under the elusive moon. That expressive green ravished him to his bones became hurried footsteps of lust that burnt his skin and filled his lungs of the scent of the wet roads back home.

 

 _The shine of those emeralds hunted him for silent nights_ _in the days to come_.

 

A new green far away from home surrounded his sharp mind. It was vivacious and slightly less wise. It was impetuous and dangerous. It did not grow vast and unruly, but collected and exciting. He was on its own, competing, fighting, longing… for months.

It was the green of fabrics; a green that was magical because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t pure. It was human-made. It was a foolish notion of elegance at Kingsman Tailors.

 _And he cried in his solitude for the real green of his spirit_.

Some other greens, and whites, and yellows and browns passed. And oh, the brown he loved so much! That brown that mixed perfectly with his green. That was warm and thrilling, that was a companion.

 _He stopped crying from home, but his olive green eyes still missed the fresh scarf of the backyard_.

Some other greens crossed his way, but they never stayed or at least they never made their way to his olive green eyes and his heart. The vivid green of the estate became blurred under the dying sun the days that other colors left forever. It sank in his heart alongside the memories of those who did not longer were.

It was not the green of his land. He has seen in green all his life is because of his eyes. Everything had colors but he only knew one: _green_.

 

It’s the green under his feet, the transparent rain that brings life and adds glow to the yellow green that stains emerald rivers in every leave, in every inch of his never-ending vision. The green which travelled to his nostrils and wrapped his brain in a soft velvety rug that cuddles his worries, his pains, his loses…

 _His loves, his smiles, his tears, his songs, his roots_.

 

 _Merlin was born in the green, to live in the green, to die in the green_.

**Author's Note:**

> The verses belong to Ba Ba Mo Leanabh, a lullaby I found and I thought it would work.   
> Here are the ones used in English. 
> 
> *I breathlessly climbed the great mountain   
> I climbed and I descended  
> I would put the hair of my head under your feet   
> And the skin of my two hands
> 
> You can have the link to the song too.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7dW1FtfS9Q


End file.
